


Pretty Little Monsters

by Heathen



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Darkfic, Dave’s POV, Drug Use, Explicit Language, M/M, The Daily Wire, The Rubin Report, explicit non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27977865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heathen/pseuds/Heathen
Summary: Dave finally gets fed up with Ben’s bigotry...and decides to teach him a thing or two about “Sin.”
Relationships: Dave Rubin/Ben Shapiro
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Pretty Little Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> I blame tiktok for this utter filth. The Ben Shapiro thirst accounts have broken my brain. I do not wish ill upon any political pundits, and obviously, this work is entirely fictional. I am sorry...but only a little.
> 
> ——————————————————————————————————————————-

Dave Rubin swirled the tequila in his glass, staring into it’s depths as thunder rumbled outside his window. The storm brewing in the background perfectly mirrored the one within, and he promptly took shelter in a hand full of pills, chasing them down with a shot of liquor. He leaned back in his oversized office chair, waiting for them to take effect.

He knew he’d been taking too many, but today, he needed all the help he could get. Dave had been in a dreadful mood since dawn, and ended up dismissing his entire film crew earlier that day, hoping to spare them from his foul temper. Even his husband had vacated the premises, giving Dave the time he needed to cool off. Now, he sat alone, brooding in his home office as the source of his ire flashed back at him from his computer. He must have read the short message glaring across it’s screen a hundred times, and with each run through, a fresh wave of rage washed over him.  
...............................................................................................................  
....Mr. Dave Rubin,

We regret to inform you that your partnership with The Blaze Network has been terminated, due, in part, to a recent incident of indecent behavior at one of our events. Our patrons expect and deserve hosts of the highest moral integrity, of which, you seem to be lacking.

Best Regards,  
-Tyler Cardon (CEO) Blaze Media.  
..............................................................................................................

Dave couldn’t believe it, he had been canceled...by the RIGHT! He poured himself another shot of tequila, and quickly gulped it down, appreciating it’s burn. He felt used, and the betrayal was crushing. It seemed he had just been a prop for them all along, a gay ex-lefty mouthpiece to be tossed aside at their earliest convenience. Well, fuck ‘em! 

He was just about to send his empty shot glass careening through the air when the doorbell rang. Hmm...his husband must have forgotten his keys again. Dave plopped his glass back down, and heaved himself out of his chair, a slight smile playing at his lips at the thought of his partner locked out in the rain. Perhaps some company was just what he needed.

He popped a mint into his mouth, and slowly made his way through the halls of his gleaming new mansion, feeling a bit lighter. (Or...perhaps he was just high.) When Dave finally reached the front entrance, and pulled open the door, however, it was not his husband’s face that greeted him.

“Ben?” Dave blinked his eyes several times, wondering just how drunk he had to be to conjure up an image of Ben Shapiro standing outside his door...and in the rain, no less. (Which he looked thoroughly pissed off about.)

“Dude! Are you waiting for me to melt, or what?” Ben complained, growing impatient as Dave continued to gawk at him as if he were some kind of blue haired leftist freak.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry.” Dave quickly stepped aside, his eyes following the trail of puddles Ben left in his wake as he squished and squashed across the marble tiles of the front entry. 

“You know,” Dave said, shutting the door behind his friend. “I think I’d better get a bucket and a mop for this wet ass Sha-p-word.” He joked lamely, attempting to break the ice with a bit of humor.

Ben shot him a withering look as he wrung out his sleeves, making sure to leave a proper mess this time around.

“Uh...I’ll just get a towel then.” Dave replied awkwardly, feeling his forced smile falter. Shapiro had always been a bit of a dick, but Dave supposed being left out in the rain afforded the guy a break.

“Where’s the new studio?” Ben asked, halting Dave’s departure.

“Huh?” He wobbled around, shooting a questioning look back at Ben.

“If fetching a towel takes you half as long as, say, greeting your guest, then I’d rather wait in the studio.” Ben informed him haughtily. “You see, I’ve got three hours, as scheduled by you, before my next gig...so we really, really, need to get this interview started, like yesterday. Posthaste, my friend...posthaste.”

Dave grit his teeth, feeling oddly disappointed. Of course Shapiro hadn’t come all this way for a social visit! Freaking Spock was incapable of common social niceties like camaraderie and small talk. Dave really should have known better, but without his crew there to remind him, he’d forgotten all about Shapiro’s interview.

“Down the hall, last door on the right.” Dave pointed, swallowing hard. With a bit of luck, he could still pull this off.

After tidying his appearance, and grabbing the frilliest pink towel he owned (passive aggression was one of his specialties.) Dave quickly marched his way back to the studio, pouring over some key talking points on his way. He found the studio door standing ajar, and as Dave reached out to push it open, he froze, transfixed by the sight of his friend framed through the small opening. 

Ben had stripped down to his black under-T, and the wet fabric was tight, clinging to him oh-so deliciously. Dave felt his pulse quicken as he watched Ben work his waterlogged dress shirt through his hands, his muscles flexing in all the right places as he squeezed out the excess water. The kid was surprisingly fit, and Dave’s body seemed to take notice.

“Fuck.” Dave cursed to himself, pulling away from the door to lean against the opposite wall. This could NOT be happening! Sure, maybe he had a tiny crush on the little nerd...(Ben was cute, in an awkward sort of way), but never before had Dave’s treacherous dick fought so hard to reveal that fact! He ran his hands over his face as the wall cooled his heated skin. It must be the tequila, he reasoned, feeling a bit better as he slowly regained a hold on himself. Yes...definitely the tequila. 

Shaking off the troublesome feelings, Dave shoved through the studio door, flinging the princess towel in Shapiro’s general direction, which he promptly caught in his free hand.

“What in the world?” Ben stared down at it in disgust. “What is this, some kind of doily?” 

“Sorry.” Dave apologized, (not looking the least bit sorry.) “My niece left it here, only clean one left, I’m afraid.” He forced back a grin as he set up the camras, feeling rather pleased with himself.

Ben let out a long-suffering sigh, looking adorably miserable as he dried his hair with the lacey pink monstrosity. “Where is everyone?” He asked, noticing the lack of staff as he took his seat across from Dave.

If Ben hadn’t been such a clueless prude, Dave would have sworn the bastard was trying to tease him with this extended rubdown session. Honestly, how long did it take a dude to dry the fuck off! 

“Ah, well...it’s been fucking bananas around here...it’s just you and me today, Shapiro.” Dave replied, developing an odd fascination with his shoes to avoid looking in Ben’s direction. “You said you were in a hurry?”

“That is correct.” Ben said, FINALLY setting down the awful towel in order to give Dave his full attention.

“All right, here we go.” Dave turned to the first camera.”I’m Dave Rubin, and this is the Rubin Report...and joining us today...you know him, you love him....My friend, Ben Shapiro!” “Ben, we’re back at it again, brother.”

“Indeed we are.” Ben clipped back slickly, not missing a beat. “But with the establishment media now proclaiming to be the sole arbiters of truth, dissenting voices, such as our own, have really become an integral part of honest public discourse. That is to say...”

And on and on he went. Dave never ceased to be amazed by Ben’s ability to talk rapid fire style in a near continuous fashion. It was an almost supernatural ability that tried the skills of even the most seasoned interviewers. Fortunately, Dave had adapted over the years by allowing Ben to dominate the conversation, only budding in himself when he needed to steer the guy’s monologues in another direction. This was a fine strategy, but it tended to leave Dave’s mind time to wonder...and it was currently ‘wondering’ how Shapiro’s pretty lips would feel wrapped around his cock. 

“...likely. The constant shrinking of the Overton Window supposedly aids in that process, at least, theoretically....” Ben droned on, completely unaware of the scandalous thoughts whirling around in Dave’s brain. Eventually though, he seemed to notice that something was a bit off.

“Dave?” “Hello?” “DAVE RUBIN!” Ben finally yelled, bringing the other man crashing back to reality. 

Dave felt his cheeks flush when he realized he’d been staring at Ben’s mouth for a good five minutes, and hadn’t heard a word he’d spoken for at least half an hour.

“Yeah....yeah, sorry.” Dave shook his head. He was really out of sorts today, shit! 

“Are you feeling all right?” Ben asked, looking at him with genuine concern...which, of course, sent a bolt of guilt straight through Dave’s heart.

He felt like such a wretched person. Dave had always been able to keep his darker desires in check, but today, his mind seemed to be operating without any filters at all. Perhaps downing random pills with shots of tequila hadn’t been his brightest idea. His friend deserved better, and Dave decided to confide in him...after all, he trusted Shapiro.

“Honestly, Ben...you know, I’m not really sure anymore.” Dave admitted, taking an uneasy sip of water before continuing. “I’m not really finding this ‘libertarian’ circle of ours to be as, I don’t know...”open minded,” as I thought they were.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of problem solving. “I need specific examples.” 

Ben was DEFINITELY on the spectrum, Dave concluded...but, perhaps he could offer some valuable insight from a legal perspective. Reluctantly, Dave hauled out his laptop, flipping it around for Ben to read after opening the termination note. He could simply edit this out from their interview later.

“What incident are they referring to?” Ben questioned, bringing his dark eyes up to meet Dave’s after skimming through the message.

It was impossible not to feel judged in that moment, but Dave knew he’d done nothing wrong. “I kissed my husband at one of their fundraisers.” He answered honestly. “And...I don’t think the Koch brothers appreciated it very much, being the old dinosaurs that they are.”

Ben went silent for a few moments, seemingly to mull it over in his head. However, when he did finally speak...it was not to bequeath Dave with the words of comfort he’d been longing to hear.

“True, they’re a bit behind the times.” Ben admitted, “But the free market tends to correct for counter productive behaviors, such as this, in the long term.”

“You wanna try that in English, Ben?” Dave snapped back, stiffening in his chair as the stinging hooks of betrayal pierced him anew. “Like, come on...you can’t honestly believe they have the right to can my ass because of who I choose to fuck in my free time!?”

“Legally speaking, that depends.” Ben replied flatly, either not noticing, or not caring about his friend’s growing distress. “That particular Foundation is a religious organization, and as such, they retain the right to define sexual morality in accordance with their own beliefs.” 

When Dave refused to offer any feedback, Shapiro doubled down. “Look, it basically boils down to marketplace solutions, vs government policing, and, In my opinion, it would be disastrous to inculcate virtue via governmental intervention. You’d essentially be forcing religious institutions to violate their own principles at the gunpoint of big government...and, as we’ve BOTH agreed, the government sucks at LITERALLY everything...I don’t think you’d want to give them that kind of power.”

“So, what are you saying?” “I should just shut up and take it?” Dave barked back, clenching his fists in an attempt to reign in his rising anger and disappointment. He had been so certain that Ben would have his back on this one, maybe even offer to help him out with the legal proceedings...but it appeared Shapiro’s bigoted conservative views came before their friendship, and that infuriated Dave.

“Yep.” Ben answered callously. “I mean, it sucks...but no one is obligated to employ you.”

“MY GOD, SHAPIRO...YOU’RE JUST AS BAD AS THEY ARE!” Dave yelled, unable to contain himself any longer.

His outburst seemed to catch Ben off guard, who apparently hadn’t noticed the shifting emotions in the room...and for a moment, he looked rather startled. It was a good look on him, Dave decided. 

“OH, THAT’S RIGHT...I KEEP FORGETTING THAT YOU THINK MY MARRIAGE IS SOME KIND OF MORTAL SIN!” 

Ben quickly regained his composure. “What does it matter what I think of your sex life?” He fired back defensively. “Do whatever you want...I’m not trying to stop you.”

“You’re right.” Dave mused, forcing calm upon his voice. “It DOESN’T matter what YOU think.” He glared at Shapiro, forcing his point. “So get out.”

“What?” Ben just stared back at him.

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!” “LEAVE!”

“Dave, I don’t think you understand what I...”

“I DON’T CARE!” Dave shouted, cutting him off. “THIS IS MY HOUSE, AND IF YOU THINK I’M SO GOD DAMNED ‘SINFUL’, OR WHATEVER, THEN I DON’T FUCKING WANT YOU HERE!”

“We’ve been over this, what? A dozen times already?!” Ben shot back scathingly, clearly loosing his patience with these emotional outbursts. “To a religious person, such as myself, certain things are regarded as sinful...and it’s not just homosexuality, but incest, adultery...I mean, even jacking-off is a freaking sin...we’re all sinners!” Ben informed him with a satisfied smirk, as if this should all be perfectly obvious.

The smugness radiating off him stabbed at Dave like a red hot poker, and it took every ounce of will power he had left not to physically choke the guy. He opted for a verbal assault instead. 

“Now, that’s interesting.” Dave mused, lowering his voice into a dangerous growl. “So, by your logic....consensual sex with my husband is just as ‘sinful’ as, I don’t know, me walking over there and having my way with you?” He was pleased to see Ben squirm at this, but of course, it wasn’t enough to shut him up.

“Actually, consent, or lack there of, isn’t specifically mentioned. Biblically speaking, rape isn’t classified as a sin...adultery is.” Ben corrected him matter of factly. 

Well, Dave had not been expecting that answer, so he really couldn’t be blamed for what happened next. It was as if he were watching his body react from somewhere above; and In an instant, he had flipped over the coffee table and lunged at Shapiro, pinning him to his chair. He pressed his lips to Ben’s ear, and hissed...”Good to know.” enjoying the tense sensation beneath him as his words began to register.

“Dude, Th-this isn’t funny!” Ben managed to squeak out, regaining his motor skills once the shock of of the impact had worn off.

“Brilliant deduction, Ben.” Dave crooned back, his gaze once again focusing on Shapiro’s full, doll-like lips. Without warning, Dave captured them with his own in a violent kiss, crushing and demanding. He was going to teach this arrogant brat a lesson he’d never forget.

Once this horrifying reality clicked, Ben began fighting back....hard. Dave felt his grip slip as Shapiro wrenched himself from his grasp, and the altercation quickly escalated into physical blows, but Dave was confident he could take him. Shapiro may have been a juggernaut in the debate world, but here, Dave had the advantage; and while he wasn’t exactly in his prime, Dave’s experience and bulk more than made up for it. And sure enough...he landed a well placed blow to the head a few moments later.

Ben crashed into the display shelves, shattering a glass lamp before collapsing to the floor where Dave promptly dug his knee into his back, holding him in place while he was still dazed from the impact. Dave quickly yanked the lamp cord free from the rubble, and clumsily wound it around Ben’s thin wrists, tightly securing his hands behind his back. Adrenaline was pounding through his veins like the beat of a drum, and Dave felt euphoric as he drug the younger man, caveman style, back to his master bedroom. 

Shapiro began to rouse once Dave dumped him onto the mattress, so he hastily tied him to the bedposts using whatever he could find. By the time his last ankle was cinched down, Ben was blinking his eyes, taking in his surroundings. 

“Dave?” Ben squinted up at him. “What the...?” Finally, he seemed to remember what had transpired between them.

“LET ME GO, YOU FUCKING FREAK!” Ben snarled at him, flailing around wildly once he realized he was restrained.

“Seven day’s a week, babe.” Dave dropped onto the mattress, straddling Ben’s hips to hold him steady. “You should have left when I asked you to, Shapiro.” He informed him silkily, stroking a hand over Ben’s damp T-shirt. 

“YOU’VE LOST YOUR DAMNED MIND! GET OFF ME RIGHT NOW, RUBIN..AND MAYBE...MAYBE, I WONT PRESS CHARGES!” Ben demanded.

Dave snorted at the threat, and dipped his hands under Ben’s shirt, exploring his firm body with relish. He wanted to possess every inch of that soft, smooth flesh.

“If you can ‘befriend’ a gay dude like me, then this should be no problem for you, right?” Dave purred sarcastically, clawing his way up Ben’s chest. “I mean, this part.” Dave withdrew one of his hands to tug on the power cord currently tying Shapiro down. “Isn’t even a sin according to your good ol’ book.”

When Ben shot him one of his evil Damien glares, Dave responded in turn, ripping the black fabric from his body to reveal a pale swath of porcelain skin. Ben shivered as his torso was exposed to the cool air, and to Dave’s ears, his voice took on a more pleading note. 

“Stop this!” Ben urged breathlessly, having tired himself out in his futile attempt to escape. “That’s not what I meant! You KNOW that’s not what I FUCKING meant!” 

Dave ignored him, and instead, moved his hands down to Shapiro’s trousers, quickly working the buttons free. It wasn’t until he’d pulled the denim down past Ben’s ankles that the guy finally gave up all sense of bravado.

“N-no, no, no! Dave, please!” Ben flat out begged him. “I’m sorry, okay?” “I’m sorry!”

Ben’s apology caused Dave to pause, and he momentarily sobered up enough to realize exactly what he was doing...and it horrified him. He peered down at Ben below him, wide eyed and frightened, and he felt sick with himself. But it was too late. There was no way to salvage his friendship with Shapiro after this, even if he stopped right then and there. Hell, he’d be lucky to escape prison time...and he could certainly kiss his career goodbye. Dave figured he’d be lucky to get a job washing dishes once Shapiro got through with him. No, he decided. If this was how he was going down, he would at least enjoy the ride.

Ever oblivious to Dave’s train of thought, Ben was still attempting to reason with him, and it grated his nerves. 

“For once in your life, Shapiro...SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Dave commanded angrily.

Afraid his old friend would once again strike a cord in his conscience, Dave quickly swiped Ben’s yamaka off his head, balled it up, and stuffed it down the guys throat...reducing his complaints to muffled grunts and groans.

“There, much better.” Dave signed, looking relived.

Ben seethed up at him, thrashing violently as Dave tore at his underpants, until finally, he lay bare, completely exposed and vulnerable under his touch. This kind of control was completely foreign to Dave, and he found it absolutely intoxicating. Delightful shivers shot through his spine as he ran appraising hands up and down Shapiro’s body, savoring every quiver and twitch of muscle beneath his finger tips. Ben truly was beautiful...and he was his.

Feeling his trousers grow uncomfortably tight at the thought, Dave reluctantly pulled away, tearing the buttons from his own clothes as he rushed to strip them off, eager for more contact. 

“Oh, chill out, Shapiro.” Dave chided, undeterred as Ben hissed and growled through his gag, making his displeasure known as a fully nude Dave Rubin slithered back up his body. His tanned form hulked over Ben possessively, using his larger frame to completely pin him to the mattress. They were so close together that Dave could feel Ben’s heartbeat thudding against his own chest, creating an air of intimacy as he began rolling his hips, grinding his erection against the warm body trapped below him. Delighting in the friction, Dave began trailing kisses up the younger man’s neck, enjoying the angry grumbles they elicited as he went.

It wasn’t long, however, before these seemingly tender ministrations escalated into a full on mauling. Dave’s lips soon left ugly bruises in their wake as he stamped his mark across Ben’s delicate skin, ravenously staking his claim. As his conquest continued, Dave found his mind turning back to Shapiro’s soft lips, and without thinking, he clumsily ripped the gag away.

And...using the only weapon he had left, Ben promptly spat in his face.

“Ugh!” Dave felt the blood tinged saliva run down his cheek, and quickly pulled back, wiping it away with the back of his hand.

“ALRIGHT, MOTHER FUCKER!...YOU WANNA SKIP THE FOREPLAY...YOU GOT IT!!!” Dave shouted angrily, pulling himself off the mattress. 

He watched Ben out of the corner of his eyes as he rummaged through his nightstand, fishing out a bottle of lube. It was supremely satisfying to watch the color drain from the little bastard’s face as Dave slicked the gel down his engorged length.

“Dave! Don’t you fucking dare!” Ben warned, attempting to scoot away as Dave approached the foot of the bed.

“Or what?” Dave chuckled, “Ya going to talk me to death, Shapiro?” He caught Ben’s ankle, and pulled him down the bed as far as his restraints would allow. “Believe me, kiddo...if that worked, you’d have killed me off years ago.”

Dave ignored the barrage of threats and swears hurled his way as he hiked up one of Ben’s pale thighs, lining himself up with his entrance. Sure, he could better prepare the guy, stretch him out a tad...but this time, Dave wanted Ben to HURT. (After all, when had he or his ilk ever spared him from any pain?) With resentment propelling him forward, Dave savagely thrust into his friend, sheathing himself to the hilt in Ben’s virgin ass. 

“Fuck...” Dave groaned, overwhelmed by the constricting heat. The sensation was almost painful, becoming vice-like every time Ben’s body spasmed around his intruding member. God, he was even tighter than Dave had imagined. 

He peered down at Ben, who’d gone rigidly silent the moment he’d penetrated him. The guy was panting in shallow bursts, but other than a few involuntary trembles, gave no outward sign of his discomfort. Ironically, all of his energy now seemed to be focused on NOT screaming and hollering. 

“Look at me.” Dave demanded, unsatisfied with Ben’s lack of response. 

When the stubborn bastard made no move to comply, Dave drew back his hips, nearly exiting Shapiro’s body, before slamming back into him with a force that rocked the entire bed frame. Ben clenched his teeth, stifling a pained grunt, but aside from that remained steadfastly stoic...which irked Dave even more. 

“I SAID, LOOK AT ME!” He yelled again, refusing to lose this battle of wills. 

Desperate to take back control, Dave reached down and grabbed a fist full of black hair, forcing Ben’s gaze up to meet his own. When their eyes finally locked, however, Dave flinched as if he’d been burned. Shapiro’s glare blazed back at him like an inferno, and it became powerfully obvious just how pointless it was to try and beat the feisty conservative into submission. No...Dave thought to himself, this would require a different approach. 

Carefully, Dave lifted Ben’s hips, adjusting his position before he resumed fucking into him. This time, however, Dave’s thrusts were exploratory, gentle even, as he slowly worked Ben open. At some point, a gasp slipped through the cage of Shapiro’s teeth, and Dave knew he’d finally found what he’d been aiming for. He struck the sensitive area again, harder, and was pleased to hear another sweet little moan worm it’s way out of Ben’s mouth.

“You like that, Shapiro?” Dave teased, increasing his speed as he continued to pound into Ben’s prostate.

Dave snaked one of his hands down and groped Ben’s penis, stroking it in tandem with the well placed thrusts until the younger man was fully erect.

“So this is why”....”they call you the Hebrew Whore.” Dave grunted between thrusts. Enjoying the look of horror on Ben’s face as he continued to lose the battle against his own body. “You’ve been holding out on me.”....”you fucking slut.” 

Ben’s eyes soon glazed over, and a sheen of sweat glistened over his skin as Dave continued to ride him through waves of pleasure. Before long, Shapiro was arching his back, spilling his seed over Dave’s hand like the whore that he was. 

Dangerously close to the edge himself, Dave fell forward, pressing his weight into Shapiro’s body as he leaned in to kiss those perfectly parted lips. All the fight seemed to have drained out of Ben, and while he didn’t return Dave’s kiss, he did remain delectably pliant. Taking full advantage of this, Dave ground his hips, working his cock in deeper as his tongue took to plundering Ben’s yielding mouth. He didn’t come up for air until he felt the flutter of wet lashes brush against his cheek. 

When Dave peered down, he found tears streaming down Ben’s face, his expression marred with pain, confusion, and shame. The puritanical idiot was just too damn naive, Dave surmised. It would have been impossible for anyone to control their bodily reactions with that kind of stimuli. Sheesh...no one should be that god damned innocent. A painful tug of guilt played at the back of Dave’s mind, but he quickly pushed it down, he wasn’t finished yet.

As if to send his conscience the middle finger, Dave cruelly smeared his hand over Ben’s pretty, tear stained face, coating it with the guy’s own cum in a degrading manner. He could no longer stand to look at the whiny little brat. 

Hauling himself off his bed, Dave slowly pulled out of Ben’s tight cavity with a satisfying plopping sound...(ignoring the blood streaking up his shaft.) The separation left him feeling cold and weightless, hastening his fingers as they worked to untie Shapiro from the bed posts, leaving only his hands trussed behind his back. 

As Dave had suspected, Ben didn’t put up much of a fight, and he was quickly able to flip his smaller body around, and bend him over the mattress. Dave kicked his pale legs apart viciously, and grabbed Ben by the back of the head, smashing his face into the silk sheets as he mounted him from behind. 

He could feel the younger man’s breath hitch as he slammed back into him, driving his cock in so deeply that his balls slapped against Shapiro’s ass. The tight heat of Ben’s body instantly clenched around him, pulling a lustful growl from deep within Dave’s throat. Seeking better leverage, he clawed his hands down Ben’s back, breaking the skin before gripping him greedily around the hips. It was all Shapiro’s fault, Dave convinced himself, pulling out of his former comrade, only to impale him even harder. That silver tongued snake knew exactly what he was doing! Batting his pretty eyelashes at Dave, seducing him to the Right, making a fool of him! All of these pent-up negative feelings were unleashed in a violent flurry, with Dave’s cock dealing out punishing blows. The bed frame was sent crashing, gouging out the stuccoed wall as the rough treatment sent it jolting to and fro. 

His thrusts were merciless, and eventually, Ben broke...sobbing and grunting each time Dave railed into him. The noises were pathetic, feral..and they went straight to Dave’s pulsing member, quickly pushing him over the edge. He gave a final, brutal lurch forward, moaning Ben’s name as he claimed him, deep and hard... defiling the conservative darling to his very core.

His orgasm tore through him like a rapturous flood, and by the time the heat of ecstasy began to lift, Dave barely had enough energy to hoist Ben and himself back onto the mattress. For several long moments, he just lay there with his chest snuggled against Shapiro’s back, his arms wrapped protectively around him in the warm afterglow. Dave would have given anything to stay like that forever, because despite everything, a part of him did love Ben...maybe even more than he hated him.

Feeling something uncomfortable dig into his stomach, Dave looked down, noticing the lamp cord still knotted around Shapiro’s wrists. His skin was raw and bleeding, and as Dave slowly unwound it, he kissed the damaged flesh as if such an act would magically make everything all better. 

Once he was completely unbound, Dave rolled Shapiro onto his back and leaned in to kiss him, but his old friend flinched away from him as if he were some kind of monster. The rejection felt like a blade twisting in his gut, and in an instant, Dave felt his affections melt away. He coldly jerked out of the embrace, and stomped over to an oversized chest of drawers, pulling a fresh shirt over his broad shoulders, and hiking up a pair of jeans. Grabbing some cash in a bowel atop his dresser, Dave slowly made his way back to the tangled mess of his California king. Ben was laying exactly where he had left him, staring blankly up at the ceiling with blood and spunk trickling down his thighs. Dave knew this would be the last time he would ever see him, that this vision of his friend broken and abused by his own hand would haunt him until his dying breath...but right now, he felt only numbness.

“Here” Dave finally spoke, tossing the wad of cash over Ben’s chest as if he were a common whore. “Lock up when you leave.” 

And with that, Dave walked out the door without speaking another word, leaving Ben as used and alone as his former right-wing allies had left him. Dave didn’t look back until his house could barely be seen through the rear view mirror of his favorite sports car. It was game over, and still...he felt nothing.


End file.
